iTake A Challenge
by mhristheword097
Summary: In response to NobodyPutsKayleighInTheCorner's 100 Word Challenge.  100 Words involving oneshots about Seddie!  Can be rated differently as chapters move along and will be different every oneshot!
1. Apple

**Author's Note: Okay, I know this idea has been overused (the 100 Word Challenge), but I figure I would try it, just for a bit of fun! I'll try really hard to update about once a day, but if I can't I'm really sorry! So here we go! (I'm excited!)**

**Word: Apple**

**Takes place when they are just beginning 5****th**** grade. Freddie is a new kid at the school.**

**Disclaimer: Ahem… You listening over the rainbow? I DON'T OWN ICARLY! Or have something to cleverly disclaim…**

~~Sam's POV~~

The first day of fifth grade is utterly the most horrible day of the year. I mean seriously, who could enjoy the first day of the last year in elementary school, when you know that there is one year left before you get out of this prison? I'm supposed to enjoy being forced around by idiotic teachers who tell me what to do and where to go? Oh, heck no!

What makes it worse for me this year is that there's a new student that happens to (of course) sit right next to me, even though our last names are nowhere near each other alphabetically. Right as he plops down in his seat, I immediately glance at Carly, who sits diagonally from me, right in front of this new dork. She sees my smirk and realizes that I'm up to no good, so she starts shaking her hair back and forth like a wet dog would.

I ignore her, plotting my own harmless little plan to irritate this new kid. Whipping out my emergency straw, I quickly chew up a small scrap of paper, then stick it in and prepare to blow. Ready to show this new guy who's the best here at Ridgeway Elementary, I inhaled and—PLOP!

No, you're not thinking correctly. It didn't hit the nubbish geek. It hit the nubbish weirdo, Gibby, who sits on the other side of this kid. Of course this guy had to bend over and pick up his pencil. Of course he did. The stupid dishrag.

Gibby, who over the years has had a tendency to overreact to many things, such as the field trip to the zoo with llamas, slipping on a banana peel, and hearing the word ointment said by our third grade teacher, shot up from his desk, screamed "SPITBALL!", then started running around the room, shaking his hair and whimpering constantly. Everyone in the class, except for the new student, was just watching Gibby with a bored expression on their face. Even Carly, who usually always wants to help Gibson with his problems, just sat there. I guess this was too much, even for her.

Just at that moment, the teacher, Ms. Fishburn (which sounds great if you're a seafood restaurant owner), came rushing into the room from the teacher's lounge, carrying a steaming cup of coffee, which quick as a blink fell to the floor cracking and breaking to pieces as she tried to calm down Gibby. I silently chuckle, only slightly feeling bad for her as it was her first day on the job. Guess she's never dealt with a crazy freak before.

As she tried to get Gibby to calm down by singing him a lullaby, she rose to her full height (5'1…wow) and asked the class with a harsh tone, "Who shot the spitball?"

No one raised their hands. No one dared to. They didn't know whether this new teacher would be super nice or horribly mean. Or worse; a stuffy old hag who likes to knit socks during recess.

"No one answering, huh? Very well," she glared around the classroom, daring anyone to look in her cold, demanding eyes.

"Gibby!" Ms. Fishburn barked.

"Huh?" he shot up quickly, looking and sounding terrified.

"Who shot the spitball at you?"

"I-I-I don't know," Gibby stammered, looking around anywhere but towards the teacher.

"Are you sure about that?" she questioned sweetly.

"Well, I guess it came from my left," he answered, pointing towards the new kid.

Yes! My plan hadn't been a bust after all! In some form or another, this new nub was going to be embarrassed, but I hadn't thought of using the teacher to do it. I assume the saying that goes "Everything works out in the end," wasn't such a joke after all!

"Fredward Benson?" The teacher loudly announced.

I snickered. His name was Fredward? No wonder he struck me as such a dork! Ms. Fishburn glared at me before turning her attention back to Fredward.

"Did you shoot the spitball at poor Gibby?" Now Carly was glancing back at me, begging with her eyes to help this guy out. I quickly rose my eyebrows, questioning why I should do anything to help that loser.

"No! I swear, I did nothing wrong! It's only my first day at this school! Look—" He sputtered, before digging in his backpack and pulling out a juicy red apple. "I even brought you an apple!"

She snatched it out of his hands and moved her head closer down to his. "Excuse me, sonny, but I don't know if sucking up to the teacher is the best way to—" Ms. Fishburn took a large bite of the apple before continuing. "get out of…Wow! This apple is amazing! Where did you get such a fruit of high quality?" She stared at the shiny product with awe and wonder, leaving me to drop my jaw open in astonishment, while Carly just looked on giddily.

"I got it from the farmer's market. My mom always says 'Fresh fruits are good for anyone but brutes.'" Fredward said, shocked that he had gotten out of a terrible first-day situation. Trust me, buddy, I'm shocked too.

"Well tell her it is delectable! Now why was I angry again?" Ms. Fishburn pondered for a moment, before giving up and getting back to her daily assignment.

"Oh well, I'll think of it later! The first thing I want us to be doing today is…" The rest of what she was saying just droned on and on to me, sounded like nothing but buzz. During some point in her lecture/welcome speech, Carly looked back at me with a sweet smile, happy that everything worked out for the new boy, while I just rolled my eyes.

This Fredward Benson was not getting off the hook so easily. I aimed my spitball gun again, this time making sure that he was absorbed in listening to the teacher, without any intentions of bending over, before shooting and—SPLAT! Hitting the target!

He felt the side of his head carefully, then drew back his hand, looking utterly grossed out at the spit on his palm. Meanwhile, I was trying my hardest not to bust out laughing. Fredward glanced to his left, at Gibby, then to his right at me, pointing his finger accusingly while raising his eyebrow questioningly.

I only had to smirk in response.

His curious eyes turned into ones that shot daggers as he quickly turned away and began furiously writing in his notebook. _ Probably his diary _I thought, tuning back into what the teacher was saying, having no better option, when a neatly folded piece of paper landed gracefully upon my desk.

I looked around the room, making sure no one was watching, before unfolding and reading the note.

_Really? It's my first day here; I don't need to be bullied already._

I scoffed, rolling my eyes before writing a response.

_Bullied? No, no, no, Fredward Benson. This is not bullying, this is torture._

I watched as his expression turned to shock and horror while reading before writing what he had to say.

_Don't call me Fredward, please. It's Freddie. What's your name anyway? I have to report you to the Seattle Police Department._

I raised my eyebrow, questioning in my mind why any kid would be in their right mind to try and stand up against Sam Puckett.

_Too bad, you're Fredward now. And it's Sam. Trust me; you will learn to fear this name, nub._

No emotions were shown on his face this time as he quickly wrote back.

_I doubt I will. No 5__th__ grader can be that scary. And what is a nub anyway?_

This time, I wasted no time even thinking about what I was going to come back with.

_Well a supposed-to-be 6__th__ grader can. I had to repeat 3__rd__ grade. And a nub is you, Fredward. I mean, who brings an apple to school for their teacher?_

One minute later, the piece of paper appeared on my desk yet again.

_I'm still not scared of you. _Yet I knew he was bluffing. _ And most children in America bring apples to their teachers. It's a natural tradition._

Smirking, I realized I would have the last word in this conversation.

_Well, you're a natural dork, Fredward Benson. Let's see how you survive living in the same area as me._

I would say the class ended on a pretty high note for me as we breaked for lunch. The terrified look on Fredward's face was definitely something I could get used to.

**Author's Note: Okay! 1 down, 99 to go! Whoo hoo! By this rate, I should be done around October 24! Yeah! Alright, good night everyone! OH, and Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2 is the most ultimately epic movie you will see all year! It's amazing! Now I say good night!**


	2. Assignment

**Author's Note: Not many reviews or anything last time, but that's okay, since it's only chapter one! Soon to be two chapters! Yay! Thanks to Geekquality who reviewed though! And I agree, Harry Potter is amazing, and I thought the epilogue was the best, seeing Rose and Scorpius. And Albus too! I'm rambling, sorry! Onward!**

**Word: Assignment**

**Takes place before Sam and Freddie start dating. iOMG has never happened… Like a poof, it is gone!**

**Disclaimer: I DISCLAIM!**

~~Freddie's POV~~

"Okay, so the square root of pi, divided by a multiple of three-" I began, trying to explain logical equations to Carly, who was just staring at her homework with a blank look, before I was so rudely interrupted by a certain blonde-haired demon.

"UHHHHHHHGGGGG!"

"Anyway, then after you find the multiple of three, you just have to move the decimal over to-"

"!"

I widened my eyes in a bit of frustration, but kept my cool by ignoring her and clenching my teeth, focusing on math, only math. Keeping my promise to Carly, I glanced at the question again.

"Now it's really not that hard once you-"

"!"

I was literally about to break, each groan pushing me farther and farther toward the edge, but it turns out Carly was the one who fell over.

"Sam? Do you need some bacon or something?" Carly snapped, being the moody person she is. Currently, Carly has been slipping up in some subjects of math, and came running to me, knowing that I was fully excellent at math. Sam always came to our study sessions as well, claiming she had nowhere else to go and it was a perfect excuse to bug the heck out of me.

"Not really, it's just that math is soooooooooo boring! I really hate having to listen to you both talk about it all the time. I get enough of that at school!" Sam complained, rolling her eyes.

"I'm sorry, but that's what I really need help in! Ms. Levinson gave me a B+ on our last quiz! I can't deal with the whole plasma screen TV again!" Carly reminded her.

"Well aren't there any other homework things you have to do that are more entertaining?"

"None that I can think of at the moment, besides the turkey sandwich I have to make for foods class," Carly said sarcastically, while I just kept staring at the math problem. Unlike Carly, I don't stop until I've worked something out. I mean, she does that too, but mainly with relationships, her favorite being Sam and I. Sometimes I think there is something wrong with that girl. Sam and I? We're like French Fries and milkshakes. Two totally different things! One's salty and one's sweet, and the two conflicting flavors would be horrible together.

"There really is? Because I would be more than willing to help, Sam offered, rising from her usual spot on the couch.

"No! The only other assignment I have is for drama club, where we're doing this play called _Sixteen: A Coming of Age_."

"That's better than math! Work on that!"

"No!" Carly whined. "I really don't like reading lines; I'd rather watch someone else do it!"

"Sometimes, Shay, I think you're just as lazy as I am," Sam walked over and patted Carly's back while saying "Mama's so proud of you!"

Carly rolled her eyes, yet still smiled at her strange best friend, as she glanced down at her shoes, trying to find an answer to both of their problems. I turned my focus away from the math and towards the two girls, one who was now eating a cold slice of ham, and one who looked up with a huge smile on her face, obviously coming up with an idea. Oh no.

"Sam! Sam, Sam, Sam!" she yelled, skipping happily over to Sam. "I know how to make me an actress and you unbored!"

"You gonna take me to the Groovie Smoothie?"

"Wha-no. How could I become an actress there?" Carly turned her head around the room, looking confused.

"T-Bo could-" Sam began, but Carly interrupted, saying "I get it."

"Anyways, you and Freddie could do the scene that me and Nate are supposed to do!" she squealed, bubbly jumping up and down.

A play? And she wants Sam and I to rehearse it together? No freaking way. By the time I end my first line, my arm will be ripped off my body and stuffed down my throat thanks to a vicious Sam.

"What? Why?" I immediately ask, before realizing that Sam had the same intentions as I did-_again _- and said the exact same thing at the exact same time. Of course.

Sam quickly responded to the irony of the situation by punching me in the gut without even looking at me before resuming her glare onto Carly.

"Has that sweet, girly little brain of yours had too much Peppy Cola?" Sam demanded, leaving me still clutching my stomach, small spots dancing in front of my eyes.

"No! I mean, yes, but I have the right idea!" Carly insisted. "Look, all you guys will have to do is say a few lines, but that's it!" Quickly, she turned towards me. "Please, for me?"

"Absolutely not!" I groaned, still feeling a slight bit of pain from Sam's pack of a punch.

Right after me, she turned to Sam, thinking of a different approach. There was no way she was going to convince Sam to do this stupid little run through. I stood up straight now, ignoring the pain and smirking knowing the battle has already been won by the strongest person here.

"Please, I'll buy you a huge pound of ham, four smoothies, two milkshakes, and a tub of French Fries!" Carly pleaded.

"Done." Sam answered without a second of hesitation. I stared open-mouthed at her, shocked that she would give in so easily, but she just shrugged her shoulders and said "What's a few lines? All I'm doing is talking."

Carly agreed with her, grinning widely, but I saw just a tiny bit of fear in her eyes and it snapped in my brain that this slightly less devious matchmaker had something big planned. I bit my lip, turning towards Sam, about to speak when she cut me off.

"Look you can read a few lines right? Think of the ham Fredhead! The ham!"

"Sorry, but ham isn't my daily breakfast, lunch, and dinner!" I quickly switched my tone to a whisper. "And it's not that. I think Carly has a plan in her mind, just look at her."

Sam switched her gaze over to Carly, who was digging through her backpack searching for an extra script, a small smile plastered upon her face, but the fear in her eyes that I swore I saw earlier was replaced with pure innocence.

"Freddork, since you're taking after your crazy, overprotective mother, I'll just keep an eye out. Besides, what's the worst Carly could do?"

Carly, finding the extra script, leaped up and handed it to me, ready to watch her live performance. I took it warily, sure something out of the blue was going to happen any minute. Carly has been known to try and think of relationship ideas, such as for herself and Gibby, Wendy and Benjamin, Jonah and Valerie. What's even scarier is that they work.

"Places, everyone!" Carly yelled out, as if she were a real director.

"Cut the directing chiz, Carly, it's not like the script's going to catch on fire in three seconds," Sam mumbled while glancing at her script, leaving me to snicker at her comment. Luckily for my limbs, it went unnoticed.

"Okay start from page 12 please!" Carly chirped.

"Wait," I paused, leaving Carly to groan and roll her eyes. "What happens before? Any background?"

"Well the girl, Layla, just escaped from her stalker who was practically trying to murder her, and she sees her forbidden boyfriend, standing there watching her. That would be you. Any more questions?"

"Yeah, I mean-" Sam and I both began saying, but Carly pulled out a bullhorn and shouted "ACTION!"

I rolled my eyes before getting into character, shaking around and blowing out a puff of air. Sam was just standing there, watching me do my strange rituals. No doubt the insults she was forming in her mind.

"Are you okay?" I read my line, stepping closer to Sam.

Sam looked back down at her script, then pulled a sour face. "Carly? Who says 'Are you okay?' after he has fully well known that she was just about to get murdered? It's such a stupid question!"

"Just read the dang script," Carly gestured back towards the packet of paper.

"Fine…I don't know," Sam replied as her character, looking worried.

According to the script, I had to move closer and brush a piece of hair out of her eyes, which I hesitantly followed suit to. "Where is he?"

"Who?"

"The guy who was following you! I'm gonna beat the stuffing out of him." Cheesiest lines ever.

"No don't, Evan. He'll kill you, like he almost did with me."

"I'd rather die protecting you than let you be in the grasps of that murderer." I told her, grabbing her shoulders as the script instructs. This play is called _Sixteen_? It should be called: _Corn and Cheese(y): The Lines of a Lifetime_.

"Thank you," Sam-_Layla_-whispered. "Thank you for being here with me." She looked down as her character, not meeting my eyes.

"Layla? Do you trust me?" 'Layla' kept silent, staring down at her shoes. "I need you to know that I'm here for you, that you can be here with me and not need to worry."

"What if I can't trust anyone right now? What if I can't even trust myself?"

"Listen to me," I began, lifting her chin up. "There are people in this world who are good. There are people who are bad. You _will _be able to tell the difference eventually. Enjoy what you have now. Me."

Sam looked back down at the script in her hands, and her expression turned horrified. She pulled away from my grip, and turned to Carly.

"What do you mean we have to kiss?" Sam seethed, glaring at Carly with daggers.

"WHAT?" I yelled, jutting into the conversation.

"Oh well, if that's what the script says!" Carly perked happily, pretending to be oblivious to our unbelieving stares.

"There is no way I am kissing this nub!" Sam defied, turning her back towards me.

"Yeah, and I'm not kissing this she-devil!" I retorted.

"Well, if you guys really want to go back to math homework…" Carly threatened, but we still held our ground. "Fine. Tell you what. You guys kiss, and I won't do my math homework out loud for the rest of the night. Freddie, you don't even have to help me. Plus, we can all go to that Armenian pastry shop down the street!"

I don't know about this. Sure, it was kind of tempting, to taste the flavor of Sam again after the fire escape, but I wasn't risking breaking down our act. I turned Sam around, raising my eyebrow before whispering only to her, "Let's just get it over with. Carly will stop nagging us for a month."

She questioned me with her eyes. "You sure about this?"

"I don't want to hear a perky, bubbly little voice screaming 'SEDDIE' over the phone for a while, do you?"

"No, that's so seriously annoying; I would rather hit myself with a hammer than listen to her rant about Seddie. Alright, follow the script."

Glancing down at the script, I cupped Sam's soft, smooth face, and pulled it closer to me, our hot breath becoming more noticeable every second we inched closer to each other. I paused staring down at what seemed to be a vulnerable Sam, even though I knew it was just acting. Heart beating fast, thanks to stupid hormones; I closed the space between us.

I can't say I went through any huge changes where my feeling for Sam totally changed, but I can say she is a phenomenal kisser. She ran her fingers through my hair, mussing it all up, while I moved my arms from her face to her waist, pulling her as close to me as she could get. This part was not scripted, but suddenly her swift tongue traced my lower lip, begging for entrance. I quickly obliged, having our own silent little battle between the two forces. Overpowering her, I realized that this would look to Carly like more than acting, _which it wasn't_, so I slowly pulled away, leaving Sam stunned.

Bending over, I looked at the script again, and sighed of great relief. According to the script, that was exactly what we were supposed to be doing. Carly would never know. And as I looked up at Carly, arms still around Sam, asking her with my eyes _"Good enough?" _She slowly nodded, a grin growing wide on her face.

Carly stood up and began clapping. "That was amazing you guys! You could really work in a movie or something! I'm gonna go take a quick shower before we go to the Armenian bakery. Be right back!"

Sam cleared her throat, and I realized that I was still hugged her close to me. I immediately let go, scratching the back of my head, and trying to fill the awkward silence with "Uhh, well."

Luckily for me, Sam broke it. "That was…interesting. No feelings there right?"

"Nope," I responded quickly. "None whatsoever."

"Good, Fredweird. I completely agree." Sam nodded, glancing anywhere else but me. "Nice acting, Freddison." She smirked, leaving me somewhat happily surprised.

"You too, 'Layla,'" I responded, bringing my own comeback. _Finally._

"Touché, Fredward." Sam glared. "Touché."

"So… is there anything to… talk about?"

"What do you mean?" Sam asked, furrowing her eyebrows together.

"I mean, is there anything _to talk about?_"

"No! Absolutely not. It was strictly professional." A silence passed between us. "But maybe we should help Carly out some more with the play next week."

I smirked, knowing fully well that we would.

**Author's Note: I hope that was an okay ending. I put two references in here to a few things: one is a musical called 13, and the other is towards a popular TV show on ABC Family. Can anyone guess what it is? Sorry I didn't write yesterday, I fell asleep on my laptop. I now figure I'll write every other day at the latest. Review please! And for my daily dose of randomness, chew a 'shroom! As in mushroom! Bye!**


	3. Angels

**Author's Note: I'm back again, yet with another pointless oneshot! All in good time will they start slowly adding up… All in good time my dear Sasquatch. Anyway, I have no epic news right now, so let's get started with the chapter! Whoo-hoo!**

**Word: Angels**

**Time/Setting: Around late 3****rd**** season, early 4****th****. Setting shall be revealed…**

**Disclaimer: iCarly no own I.**

~~Third Person POV~~

It was that time of month again. No, not _that _time of month. Too awkward… It was that time of month where the charity, called Angels of Seattle, held their scheduled meeting at the Seattle Civic Center.

Now the meetings every month were always so boring, with no one interesting there to pick up the pace. Every meeting, they always discussed the underprivileged children (which was basically the only subject they worked in), daily gossip about celebrities (if there was any…), and exotic recipes. They needed something, someone who could spice up their humdrum lives. And not just by adding paprika to the Mexican stew they were discussing in April.

Harrison, the leader of Angels (who, interestingly enough, also happened to be the most boring), watched everyone chatter about the latest French pastries.

"Have you heard about the new caviar crème brulee? I thought it would be disgusting, but maybe I'm wrong," he heard one of the chattiest associates, Jenna, whisper to Shirley. Harrison rolled his eyes.

"I don't know, maybe we could organize another food drive for the children?" another volunteer, Patsy was talking to a new member. Now, a major headache was creeping its way up to Harrison.

"Have you heard about the webshows on SplashFace? One of them is iCarly; my daughter watches it, and I have to say it is quite hilarious!" Teresa was now changing the subject in Jenna's conversation, leaving Harrison to groan and clutch his head, obviously thinking this was not the way he would have liked the Angels to turn out.

"STOP! STOP, STOP, STOP!" Harrison had enough, and cried out. "This is what we do every meeting! Can we ever actually discuss something other than recipes, webshows and underprivileged children?"

The rest of the group thought for a moment, but none seemed to have an inspiration hit. However, the quietest member of the group, Charlotte, slowly raised her hand, face turning redder with every inch the hand was lifted.

"What if we bring someone interesting here? Someone that could change our whole point of view about everything?" She quietly asked, but then changed it, seeing the look of disbelief on her coworker's faces. "Or maybe bring someone different here until we have to kick them out? Just to shake things up a bit?"

The others started murmuring, most agreeing with what she was saying, but a few were a little unsure. One was snoring, leaning back in his seat.

"That's actually not a bad idea, um…what's your name again?" Harrison sheepishly asked.

"Charlotte, sir. I've been with this program for four years."

"Oh, yes, right! I knew that! Just refreshing my memory! Now, does anyone have any ideas for who we should bring in?" Harrison clapped his hands together, sweeping his eyes over the group, until Teresa snapped her fingers, shouting "I got something!"

"Yes, Teresa what is it?"

"Let's bring in Snooki, from Jersey Shore! She would definitely shake things up around here!"

Everyone stared at her, thinking it was a joke, even though the look on Teresa's face was pure seriousness.

"No, Teresa, I don't think that would be a good idea at all. You need to stop watching those reality shows!" Harrison advised.

"Okay, well I had another idea in case that one wouldn't work!" Teresa happily popped up again, perking everyone else up, too, as they had no ideas of their own. She stayed quiet, a big grin on her face as she looked around at everyone's expecting ones.

"Well?" Harrison asked, impatient.

"Oh, yeah. You know that webshow I've been watching? iCarly?" Everyone nodded. Teresa had shown them all a video at least once. "Well the kids are too young to be a part of this program, so I was thinking why don't we get their parents to join?"

Harrison seemed a little unsure, and Teresa knew the problems, so she quickly began spitting out solutions. "I know we already had Spencer here, and he was a little too…spazzy, but he was really good with the kids, remember? That shook us up a bit for a month!" The room nodded, making sounds of agreement.

"And yes, we already had Mrs. Benson here too, and she got kicked out. But we could give her another chance. People change over four years! I'm sure she doesn't buy cloudblock anymore!" Another nod of agreement from the crowd. Teresa continued.

"Ms. Puckett may seem violet and intimidating, but I'm sure under that hard shell and walls she has to protect herself, there is a caring, loving person hidden deep inside. So what do you say, gang? Are you ready to give this a try?" She ended her speech, waiting for a loud cheer or some group hug. What she got instead was a bunch of agreement murmurs spread throughout the room. Good enough for her.

"Nice work, Teresa!" Harrison complimented, seeming a bit surprised. "For your reward for coming up with such a fabulous idea, I'm leaving you in charge of contacting all the parents and convincing them to join!"

"Thank you, Mr. Harrison!" Teresa proudly smiled, before realizing her mistake. "Wait, what? I'm-what-wait-"

"Alright gang! Meeting over! Emergency meeting next week same time, same location, thanks to Teresa!" Harrison concluded, hitting his gavel on the table, as if that made things more official.

The Angels of Seattle cluttered out of the room, leaving an awed Teresa, and a very large stack of phone books.

"Alright, let's start with Spencer; I'm sure he won't mind." Teresa glanced at the phonebook, pointed out a number, and began calling.

Spencer picked up on the first ring. "Hello? Is this my confirmation of my package of thirty pounds of goat cheese?" He asked frantically.

Teresa, confused, answered, "No, this is-"

"I'm sorry, but I have to leave this line open. I have a very important call waiting for me, so I'm just going to hang up now."

"NO WAIT!" Teresa screamed, desperate.

Spencer, on the other side of the line, stuck his finger in his ear; sure his eardrum had some kind of liquid coming out of it when it burst. "Alright, what?"

"I'm from the Angels of Seattle; would you like to become a member?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure, just put me on the list, then contact me when the first meeting is."

"Oh great, now what is-"

"Okay, gotta go now, thanks for calling bye!" Right before she heard the dial tone, there was a whooshing noise and a scream. Maybe she didn't even need the others to spice things up a bit.

"Next number, Marissa Benson," Teresa quietly murmured to herself, before finding the right number once again. She dialed, and the phone didn't even ring once before Marissa picked up.

"Who are you and why don't I recognize your number?" she yelled, a panic risen in her tone.

"It's okay, Marissa, I just-"

"How do you know my name? Wait a minute, are you from the International Scissors Club? I told Freddie to stay away from that!" Now it sounded like she was just talking to herself.

"No, Marissa. This is just Teresa McGovern from the Angels of Seattle charity group."

"Oh, okay," Marissa's tone turned from fear, to happiness, then to confusion. "I thought you kicked me out."

"We did," Teresa explained, pausing before hearing Marissa's hurt whimper, "But, we would like you to rejoin our group!"

"Wh-why?" Marissa stammered.

"Because...the past is the past and we figure we should give all kicked out members another chance. Meaning you. It has been four years!"

Marissa was silent for a moment, leaving Teresa to check the phone to make sure we were still connected. The longer she went without speaking, the harder Teresa's head was starting to throb. If her plan didn't work out, she thought, Harrison was going to throw a fit, "banishing" her from all group activities for a month. Finally, she heard Marissa's shrill voice.

"Alright. I do love helping out the underprivileged children!" Marissa accepted, before adding, "But I must bring my first aid kit, just in case of any accidents."

"Sure, sure," Teresa thought nothing of it. In fact, she barely thought at all. "The first meeting is after our welcome party, since we are inviting a few new members as well."

"Oh, well, when is the welcome party?"

"Next Saturday, at the Seattle Ballroom Fine Dining and Banquet Center. Will you be able to make it?" Teresa questioned, keeping her fingers crossed.

"Well, I will have to cancel my mother-son puzzle making class, which Freddie-bear really needed. He's been acting so…rushed to get out of the house lately. I don't understand. Anyway, yes I think Freddie will understand."

"Great! See you then, at six o' clock! Goodbye Marissa!" Teresa hung up, rolling her eyes at Mrs. Benson's overprotectiveness, and letting out a large puff of air, before realizing she had one last phone call to make.

_Ms. Puckett._

The throbbing in her head returned.

Unlike the first two phone calls Teresa had made, Pam Puckett only answered the phone call on probably the four or fifth ring, almost when the answering machine picked up.

"What?" Mrs. Puckett barked, sounding exactly like her daughter Sam, only a slight bit older.

"Hello, Pam," Teresa greeted, about to say more before she got cut off (again).

"You aren't from the Seattle Police Department, are you? About last Wednesday, I really didn't mean to-"

"No, Pam. This is Teresa McGovern from the Angels of Seattle charity group," I explained, sighing.

"Oh. Well what do you want?" Pam yelled again.

"We are offering you this exclusive invitation to become a member of the Angels of Seattle. Do you accept?" Teresa asked, palms sweating.

"Are there any guys in your little charity pack?" Pam asked snootily.

"Yes…" Teresa answered, not sure where this was leading.

"Then yes, I will join!" Pam responded, sounding excited. "What's up first?"

"Um, there's this welcome party next Saturday night at the Seattle Ballroom Fine Dining and Banquet Center. Six o' clock. Do you think you'll be able to make it?" Teresa said, a little confused at Pam's sudden happiness.

"I don't have to worry about Melanie; she's still at her boarding school," Pam muttered to herself, unaware that Teresa could hear everything. "Or Sam, since she's been gone every night this week, out by five. I guess she's taking after her dear old mom."

Teresa was listening closely, since she was a major iCarly fan, though her coworkers didn't need to know that fact. It was normal for Sam to be gone from the house most of the time, but not to the point where even her insane mother questioned it. Teresa was curious.

"Yeah, I can come," Pam replied, now sounding bored.

"Great!" Teresa shouted, now finally able to exhale. "And don't forget to dress nice."

"Yeah, yeah. I gotta go now…"

"Goodbye!" Teresa hung up and clutched the phone, grinning like a mad man. The first part of her plan had succeeded, and that was all she needed. At least for one night.

~~Next Saturday night, at the Ballroom; Third Person POV~~

Teresa had gracefully strolled into the event, ready to make her appearance, but more importantly, to make sure everything went well with the senior iCarlyies. She was hoping to have a bit of fun as well, dressed in her wide strapped, mint green sleek gown, feeling absolutely perfect.

Harrison strolled over to her, obviously having too much to drink. The smell of alcohol reeked on his breath. "Teresa!" he slurred, "Great party you're having! Great party! Where's Pam? I heard that she likes to dance…We could do the tango!" Harrison shouted, collapsing to his knees.

Teresa gasped, then thought better of it, and lifted Harrison back onto his feet before leading him to a supply closet nearby. She didn't want anyone seeing him like this at her perfect event, so to make sure he didn't get out, she tied a bundle of ropes around him, but left his mouth uncovered so he could have some way to breath. Harrison wasn't a very good nose breather, unfortunately.

"Stay here," she whispered. "And stay quiet. You don't want Pam to think you're a loudmouth, do you?" He shook his head multiple times, like a wet dog, before she quickly walked away, silently shutting the door behind her.

Mrs. Benson was the first to arrive, looking…interesting in a wide tank, knee-length purple dress that had various pockets: on the collar, the skirt, the torso, practically everywhere. Teresa walked up to her, confident and smooth, and greeted her.

"Hello, Teresa," Marissa greeted with a stiff smile.

"That is quite a…special…dress you're wearing tonight." Teresa complimented.

"Thank you. I keep all my first aid equipment in the pockets. I can't help but be safe."

"That's…right. Why don't you sit down at your table? It's for new members only." She led Marissa to the elegant round table that had a fancy centerpiece sitting on top.

"Why thank you," Marissa said. "Who are the others?"

"Oh you'll meet them soon," Teresa glanced around, looking for the other two quirky parents (or in Spencer's case, guardian), before turning back to Marissa with a sweet smile. "Don't worry. Dinner will be served after they arrive."

With that, Teresa strode away, spotting Spencer across the room on the dance floor, where most of the people there were just slightly swaying to the music, chatting animatedly with each other. Spencer, however, was quite noticeable, dancing some weird dance move and wearing a glow in the dark, light up tie.

"Hello, Spencer!" Teresa waved. "That's a beautiful tie you're wearing!"

Spencer stopped abruptly, turning all serious and professional, smiling as he straightened said tie before responding. "Why thank you," he chuckled. "And how are you on this fine evening?"

"Quite well, thank you," Teresa replied, before motioning to his table. "Would you like to sit down? The new members table is right over here."

"Yes, indeed."

When they got to the table and Spencer sat down, he seemed to recognize the person across the table, who was currently digging through her stomach pocket. Spencer's eyes were wide open in horror, and Teresa quickly moved away before she had to see any awkwardness. After about five minutes of browsing around, she spotted Ms. Puckett near the front door, putting her hand on some guy's arm in an attempt to flirt.

"Pam! Pam!" Teresa shouted, waving her arm around. Pam seemed to notice her and groaned, turning away from the random guy.

"I was right in the middle of something!" she complained, pointing back to the man behind her.

"Never mind that. Let's get you to the new members table. They are going to start serving dinner any minute."

"Alright. Free food? How can I resist?" They quickly headed over to the table where Mrs. Benson and Spencer were talking with each other, seeming to be confused.

"Pam?" Spencer shrieked.

"Marissa?" Pam yelled.

"Spencer?" Marissa shouted.

"Marissa?" Spencer screamed.

"Pam?" Marissa bellowed.

"Spencer?" Pam called out.

"TERESA!" Teresa cheered, before realizing the awkward silence she just created, then slowly backed away, leaving the trio to discuss. Pam sat down, about to begin the conversation.

"So how did you two yahoos get in?" she snarked.

"We were invited," the others answered simultaneously, leaving Pam stunned.

"I was too!" Pam didn't think before saying the next thing. "I think this is a set up."

"What do you mean?" Marissa asked. But Spencer got it, if only a little bit.

"I think I know what she means. Think of this Mrs. Benson. You're Freddie's mom, she's Sam's mom, and I'm Carly's guardian. This has to do something with iCarly!"

"Wow, Spencer," Marissa seemed impressed. "That was actually…smart."

"I have my moments," Spencer gleamed, proud of himself.

"Speaking of iCarly, have any of your kids been acting strangely? Freddie has been running out of the house every night, not even touching his fish loaf," Marissa wondered.

"Okay, first of all, Carly is not my kid. She is my sister. That's just weird," Spencer shuddered. "But, no Carly isn't rushing out of the house or anything. She seems normal right now, and-"

"Oh yeah!" Pam interrupted. "Sam's been acting a little strange too. I don't usually notice, but she's at home at least three times a week, in the evening. I haven't really seen her much all week. Who knows? Maybe she's turning into her mother."

"That's weird…" Spencer commented, eager to get back into the conversation. "What's even more weird is that Sam usually comes over every evening to watch Girly Cow with Carly. Freddie too. I've only seen them twice this week at that time."

"Hmmm…Where do you think they are?" Marissa began to worry.

"Probably out at the Groovy Smoothie or something. Maybe Sam made a bet with Freddie and he has to buy her everything she wants," Spencer suggested, taking a sip of the water that was just placed upon the table.

"Or maybe they're out clubbing every night at the Seattle Dance Club and Casino," Pam thought out loud, earning strange stares from the other two. "Maybe…"

The three of them went into their own thoughts, expressions different on every face. Pam's was amused, Marissa's was horrified, and Spencer's was…well Spencer, let's just say. None of them knew that they were all wrong.

Back at the Bushwell Plaza apartments, out on the seventh floor fire escape, a couple was passionately kissing, the girl's hands around the boy's neck, and the boy's across the girl's back. The blonde pulled back for a moment, pausing to ask a question to the brunette.

"This is just to get our hormones relieved right?" she had to make sure. After all, they said they had absolutely no feelings for each other. Freddie, the brunette, touched his lips gently to the blonde's smooth neck, earning a moan as he delightfully sucked on the skin at the point.

He moved up a bit, nose dragging across her neck and face, inhaling her sweet natural scent, kissing the sensitive spot underneath her ear and pecking her earlobe before responding. "Exactly. And no one will ever know."

Freddie brushed his lips on the corner of her mouth slightly, as the blonde sighed, not being able to take it anymore, pulled his mouth back on to hers, resuming their battle to one-up each other; just not in the usual way.

After all, the best things Freddie and Sam do are kept secret.

**Author's Note: Wow that one was really long wasn't it! No wonder it took me an extra day! Sorry about that! To make up for it, I'm thinking about writing more of my other story iAm Not Predicable. Hope you enjoyed this one, as it was not the word "Angels" as you expected it! And the Angels of Seattle is a real group (in the world of iCarly, anyway)! It was somehow pulled from my mind from the episode iEnrage Gibby. I think the ukulele made me think of it! Now the A's are all done! Whoo hoo! RANDOM TIME REAL QUICK! It's a double rainbow! What does it mean? Bye!**


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